Thanks to a thick white fog, she ran on a reef in daylight on a quiet Sunday morning. She was carrying fifty-eight of a crew and about twice as many passengers. There was but a moderate sea, and, as those on board kept cool, four boats and two rafts were launched. Though one boat was capsized, and though waves washed several persons off the wreck, nearly every one swam to a boat or was picked up. One woman, however, was picked up dead. No great loss or sufferings need have followed but for the fog. As it was, the shipwrecked people were caught by currents, and had to row or drift about blindly. Their fates were various. The largest boat, with fifty-two souls, was luckiest: it reached Hohoura on the mainland after but twenty-five hours of wretchedness. There the Maori--like the barbarous people of Melita--showed them no small kindness. It is recorded that one native hurried down to the beach with a large loaf, which was quickly divided into fifty-two morsels. Others came with horses, and the castaways, helped up to the _kainga_, had hot tea and food served out to them. Whale-boats then put out and intercepted a passing steamer, which at once made for the Three Kings. There, on Tuesday, eighty-nine more of the shipwrecked were discovered and rescued. One party of these had come within a hundred and fifty yards of an islet, only to be swept away by a current against which they struggled vainly. Finally, they made Great King, and supported life on raw shell-fish till, on the third day after the wreck, the sun, coming out, enabled them (with the aid of their watch-glasses) to dry the six matches which they had with them. Five of these failed to ignite; the sixth gave them fire, and, with fire, hope and comparative comfort. They even gave chase to the wild goats of the island, but, needless to say, neither caught nor killed any. One of the rafts, unhappily, failed to make land at all. A strong current carried it away to sea, and in four days it drifted sixty-two miles. Fifteen men and one woman were on it, without food or water, miserably clothed, and drenched incessantly by the wash or spray. The woman gave up part of her clothing to half-naked men, dying herself on the third day. Four others succumbed through exhaustion; two threw themselves into the sea in delirium. Three steamers were out searching for the unfortunates. It was the _Penguin_, a King’s ship, which found them, as the fifth day of their sufferings was beginning, and when but one man could stand upright. The captain of the man-of-war had carefully gauged the strength of the current, and followed the raft far out to the north-east. Gold and silver, to the value of £17,000, went down with the _Elingamite_. Treasure-seekers have repeatedly tried to fish it up, but in vain. * * * * * [Illustration: WEAVING THE KAITAKA]